This is a song about "Don t judge my book"

Skinny jeans, but a nigger still hood

Then write another hook in my mac book

You don;t thin anymore

As soon as i walk in the door

I’m just saying they’re mad cause i don’t make much

But i beatup the case, paid my dues to the judge,

Then write another hook in my mac book

Dear momma don't cry, your baby boy's doin good

Hop up in my t bird and just ride slow

The wake up, dawg get ya face off the pillow

While we sweating you dripping wet from what your body spill

Don´t try to fuck with me, i am the one who goes for the kill,

Issue your warrant, informant, bitch i’ve been a boss

Or perhaps you'll be the prick to judge my songs,